Paper Dragons
by FierySable
Summary: Wufei introspective: " Who is this poisoned Dragon that comes to nurse itself on the healing sands of the beach...the warrior born of shimmering scales, living the shadow of a Chimera?"


Disclaimer: If I owned Wufei, I would definitely set him up for target practice…he'll be the target, I'll be the practitioner. Archery, anyone?

Author's note: this is a short introspective fic on one of the Gundam pilots. I don't know how good it is…I don't usually write for Fei-baby! ^_^ 

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OH AND TO THOSE OF U READING BITTERSWEET, THE EIGHTH CHAPTER IS OUT, but FFN doesn't show author's alert for chaptering…GRRRR

Wufei: thank my ancestors…you make me sound like a weak onna in here.

*Sigh* unappreciated, that's what I am…lol…enjoy!

PAPER DRAGON

Tonight…I feel nothing. Not the wind that jerks at my Preventer's coat, not the sand that fills my eyes as I stand on the beach, looking out at the murky green-black sea. I wonder if I shall feel again. It is strange, sitting out here with nothing but the waves thrashing against the shore for company in the last light of the sun as it disappears over the horizon…no, I am mistaken. There are birds; white gulls that cry mournfully from their aeries, bright flashes of luminescence against the darkening sky, wings spread in a yearning gesture towards the heavens they will never reach.

Ironic isn't it? White as a dove, yet they have none of a dove's grace, none of a dove's innocence…maybe that's what I lost. My innocence. In this war, in this battle, I have fought on the side of good, and I have fought on the side of evil…yet I continue to struggle in vain from these mysteries that will not let me pry their tentacles from my skin. Who is this poisoned Dragon that comes to nurse itself on the healing sands of the beach…a scholar? A man of ink and dry papaya leaf pages bound with black thread? Or the warrior born of shimmering scales, living the shadow of a Chimera? I do not know…I do not know if I shall ever know.

All I know for certain is the hilt of the katana as it spins effortlessly in my hands and the battle that I must fight tomorrow to uphold this peace that so many people have died for. I am a Preventer…it is my destiny to fight until my last dying breath is wrenched from my lungs. I know nothing else but my blade, my Mobile Unit, and the sands beneath my feet. Does it matter that I tire of this constant warring? This constant need to be on alert? No…I have people that need me. People whom I have sworn to protect…like Sally.

She is as stubborn as I am; she is the one that I fight for now. The Preventers organization has grown these last years; I could have retired into obscurity as easily as I had detonated Nataku. But if I left, that would mean that Sally would be partnered with someone else, someone that would not be able to curb her womanish tendencies to leap into a fray without careful planning and measured steps. He would allow her to dominate the partnership, allow her to take stupid chances…allow her to get herself killed. And I cannot let that happen; I owe her too much.

I owe her for tearing the cloth from my eyes when uncertainty clouded my judgement, for being my bolster, my support in her blunt, sometimes amusing manner. She was the one who gave me direction when I had none. She is the only one that understands who I am, what I have become: A paper dragon with tattered wings. They say I am strong, say I complete my missions with the ease and finesse borne of my forefathers. They say too much. If I had a choice to enter the Gundanium cage of Altron, feel the power of the dragon rush through its metallic veins, I wonder…would I accept this as an honor? Or would I touch the smooth plated walls, the flashing lights and glowing controls, and sense in it the song of death? I do not know…but has the blood of the Dragons thinned so much? Have I disgraced my Clan with my inability to understand not only the world around me, but myself as well? And I do not understand myself….but then, what child of war does?

How many times have I journeyed to the hills of the Middle Kingdom and watched the mist roll down in blanketing sheets against the vermilion stalks of bamboo? How many times must I stand at the brink of a waterfall, poised on the edge of a cliff and listen to the river roar unintelligibly by me? Not the quiet murmuring of the silt laden Yang Tse, complacent as moves as lazily as a gout-ridden grandfather; the water screams at me with the voice of a wounded beast as it stares with chilled tawny eyes, watching, waiting, for it's first opportunity to strike. It awes me, it frightens me, but how can I leave the falls, the sea, the water, when all I see in their reflection…is me? In their turbulent waves and foamy crests, I sea the glint of steel, a flashing reflection of a silver-cast katana. In their cerulean-dark depths, I see my own yearning, my own turmoil. In the blaze of light that turns it lambent and crimson, I see blood.

I have lost my way again; this time I have no one to guide me, not even the flashing emerald eyes of my Nataku, my Meiran. She should have been the warrior, not I. She was born to the sword, wields it as one who thrives in blade and battle. How is it that I survive? No…for all my skill, I am lost; a Dragon cannot survive a storm of its own making. Yet I can only hover, fascinated, by the wildness, the unleashed fury and life, of every tempest, every gale of wind that accompanies the downpour of tears that streak the ground, turning it wet with tears.

I am enfolded in this earth, a plethora of life at my fingertips, the song at my ears, the sweet-salty sensation at the back of my throat. For a while, for now, it is enough. I can be content. For a moment, my life can slip away from this shell of skin and flesh and for a moment, I can hover on the brink of eternity, suspended by wings that spread about me. They can heal; luminescent scales can smooth the jagged edges of shredded membranes and if I take one step forward, I will be able to see the spirit of a roaring Dragon as it rushes up to meet me…

~Owari~

Hmmm…

Wufei: Injustice!

It's okay, Fei, you'll live through the humiliation of everyone knowing that you have a fixation on water.

Wufei: But I DON'T!

*shrugs* sure babe, that's why you half-drowned Nataku after you lost that fight with Trieze, right?

Wufei: I did NOT!

Shut up, Fei. *waves hand and Wufei disappears in a flash of light* so what do you think, minna-sans? Please r&r&r! Read, reflect, then review! ^_^


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